Hieronymus the Liar
Take out your eccentricities and you become as interesting to me as a piece of wood. Your eccentricities are what make people perfect to me. '''-Guile''' Hieronymus the Liar is a Tiefling Hexblade played by Siân. Biography Infant Sorrow With all the ignorance of a toddler, Hieronymus was brought into the world as a Quelthic in which he grew subconsciously attentive to the attention any first-born child receives. But, following the family turmoil centred around the relationship and subsequent marriage of Hope Quelthic and Julianna Alice Heydon, his own little section of the family began to develop cracks. His mother, Gloriana “Glory” Quelthic, to save face without letting the political abilities of the family fall away from her, backed his father Kyrios Quelthic into a corner, using this turmoil as an argument for him to release her from monogamy. Hopeless to fight this reasoning, Kyrios let her go. As a result, the two pursued their own relationships apart from each other. Glory had a child from her new relationship, Phyllipa and took her leave from the capital, returning only when it was politically necessary to be seen with Kyrios again. Kyrios had Severin and Darrius, who lived alongside Hieronymus in Khora. The two parents remained amicable, but when they were together it was clear who controlled the relationship. This arrangement was mostly explained to Hieronymus, but the details of Hope’s extrication from the family was largely brushed over. To Kyrios, the loss was, “A shame, but a necessary one.” He agreed with her father Acitus Quelthic’s decision to keep her cut off, falling prey to the deep-seated Quelthic Curse like most of the bloodline before him. Infant Joy Most of Hieronymus’ growing life was spent in Edranar. He enjoyed the luxuries of private tutelage, high-class hobbies and social functions. However, he grew a strong streak of rebellion against established education, was not receptive to many hobbies, and found events a waste of time. As a result, much education was wasted through the years, replaced by a preference for the Romantic things. Hieronymus’ tutor grew increasingly frustrated with his pupil. Hieronymus would regularly avoid classes, weaving either complex lies or confident alibis to his father that he had indeed attended. When he did attend, he paid little attention, preferring to daydream than listen. On the rare off-chance he did put his head down, he would be doodling or writing instead of interacting with the lesson. Following the Romantic ideals repeatedly got Hieronymus in trouble. Rather than the peaceful musings that poets and philosophers enjoyed, Hieronymus was an active Romantic. At the age of nine, he began to escape the Quelthic gardens and stray into the grounds of other lesser nobles. At the age of 13, he enlisted the company of the three-year-old Severin and took the toddler with him on these excursions. His favourite haunts during these trips included the Hasel Family’s orchards, the fountains and water features of the Donnereath Family, and certain circuits of the surrounding residences’ gardens. Being such an active individual, if anyone saw the young man in a garden apart from his own, they would not hesitate to inform the Quelthic servants. Such an event happened when he tried unsuccessfully to access the land of the Nightwood Family. He was caught very quickly, as he was too overcome with emotion to keep stealthy. He explained, hurriedly and in rambled tones to the guards that captured him, that it was the "beautiful juxtaposition between the stoic architecture and the lavish landscaping" that had attracted him so. But, no matter the punishment put upon him by his father, which was always more severe if he had taken one his brothers, Hieronymus didn’t stop. When questioned about his behaviour, Hieronymus replied, “There’re things I don’t think I can learn from people. For example, I’d rather be taught to sing by a bird than by a person. Birds know how to do it.” This behaviour was prevalent until he lost interest in it in favour of the other type of romance. Strange Fits of Passion have I known As might well be expected from a tiefling, as well as from a Quelthic, Hieronymus’ relationships were numerous, inconsistent and full of teenage errors. He had a cycle of enraptured bliss to histrionic heartbreak on repeat and considered his relationships should follow the liberal understanding of the Fey. In his very naïve understanding, to him this meant having no limitations and forgiving the consequences that came. Many of his partners didn’t feel the same way. He was often trapped between his own desires and the knowledge of his partner’s desires. Very rarely did he put the latter first. As a result, his relationships lasted less than 6 months on average, although he prides himself on remembering all the names of his partners. As much as his immature behaviour would suggest otherwise, he maintains that he cared about all of them, and would never initiate a relationship without a basis of some sort. Normally, this basis falls to the simple fact that he finds someone ‘interesting.’ In his younger years, this simply meant someone who wasn’t a tiefling, human or half-elf: a racial difference meant an anatomical difference, something which excited Hieronymus’ preferences. As he grew up, and had encounters with different races of people, this interest grew more complex. He began to care more about the stories his partners had to tell, about their experiences and about their lives. He was maturing slowly. Hieronymus’ longest relationship was with a half-elf named Robyn Masters, a girl who his father was eager for him to marry. From a healthy financial and political background, although not a noble, Masters was, to Hieronymus’ father, the best his son would probably be able to get, considering his son’s tarnished reputation in the fields of love. Fuelled by the encouragement and positive attention Masters gained him, Hieronymus made every effort to commit to her. He spent three years with her, which introduced him to a new cycle: arousal and tedium. She became a cul-de-sac of interest after one year. However, the newly-committed boyfriend tried different techniques to bolster his interest again: he wrote poetry and small stories to relive the novelty of Masters, which worked for him. Masters was always receptive to his creative endeavours for her, although never knew the real reasons behind them. That was something he left to his own heart. The difficulty for Hieronymus came in the third year, when the summer Festival of Kasir was waxing, drawing ever closer to the consciousness of temporality. She Walks in Beauty The Quelthics knew of Kyrios’ attempts to convince his son to marry Masters. It became a good opportunity for everyone involved if such a pairing was to go ahead. So, in the summer, Glory returned to Khora with Phyllipa to organise a private Festival for the occasion. Knowing Hieronymus was interested in Kasir above other Gods, it seemed like the perfect time to push the envelope. The Festival’s true intentions were to encourage Hieronymus to get engaged to Masters, as the festivities would likely arouse him into the dramatic behaviour. Although usually oblivious to such plans, Hieronymus’ increasing agitation regarding Masters had him paranoid enough to see the true intentions. The crux of his anxiety would approach very fast and he had no way out of it: he had no good friends with which to talk about the issue, nor could he approach any of his family members, as the plans for this ‘Summer Festival’ were already in motion. His brothers were too young to truly understand the issue, which left only one individual who might be able to tap into his thoughts: Phyllipa. This carried its own extensive issues. Hieronymus’ only interactions with young women were flirtatious in nature, and with a girl as alien to him as a stranger, he could not rein himself in. He managed to get Phyllipa’s attention but during their talk he found the most comfortable way to compose himself to her was to engage in these behaviours. Those, along with Hieronymus’ desperation for novelty, his Fey-minded ideals of sex, and assisted by Phyllipa’s general naivety to romantic and sexual matters, made their wanton and scandalous midnight union an inevitability. The act was made aware to Glory first, as Phyllipa shamefully confessed what they had achieved the very next morning. Glory gained much praise during the scandal’s lifespan for her calm reaction. Once again, she took the helm in the situation, forcing Kyrios to understand her viewpoint: Phyllipa, being younger than Hieronymus and with little relationship experience, was certainly the victim in this encounter. He should have known better. That is something Hieronymus definitely agreed with. Over the course of one night, Hieronymus lost his family, his girlfriend and his position in Edranar. His father, maybe out of pity or sorrow, or simply to ensure Hieronymus wouldn’t come back, gave him money enough to get well and truly out of the country. “Exile yourself,” Hieronymus remembers him saying, “or your mother will do it for you.” The Mask of Anarchy Seeking solace and a place to succeed, Hieronymus considered his options and ended up in Dameusia. In the first week, he regretting skipping his lessons in Foreign Policy, Foreign Culture and Geography. Dameusia was no place for a tiefling. All he had to rely on was the last of his coin and a brief grasp of Dameusian. As such, the first year was, as Hieronymus himself admits, “a colossal mistake.” He tried many ways of surviving, at first engaging in honest work but soon turning to deceit and lies as a means of survival. This was far more successful. An adept liar at the best of times, Hieronymus’ silver tongue only grew fiercer in Dameusia. As a result of this necessity to survive, Hieronymus learned how to disguise himself and forge documents. He invented many pseudonyms, spending many evenings changing his external identity. It was a gleeful business. Often, he found he could rely on a few identities, which laid the paving for the next step. Hieronymus became a Charlatan, for which he took all the necessary theatrics to heart. He swapped his glasses for various masquerade masks and began travelling between the cities and towns of Dameusia, harvesting money from the gullible in exchange for ‘potions,’ ‘oils’ or ‘aid’ which were just phials of coloured water containing common herbs. He was a mountebank who knew where to set up shop. His patter was flawless, his conduct was truthful and his emotions were genuine. He avoided those who were clever enough to see through him and targeted those he could exploit. He did, however, hover around one of those who saw through him. He became infatuated with an elf called Viola Willoughby. No matter the situation, or how hard he tried, she would never let him too near. The romance, Hieronymus is convinced, was not simply one-sided, but he is prepared to admit he could be wrong. It was an infatuation that spanned many years, almost all his time in Dameusia, and its intensity died down only when he instructed himself to stop. Her name is one that is forever burned onto his mind, and he considers it a love that represents the purest he could be in that field. It remains a branding on his heart. It is equally embarrassing and heart-warming for him remember Willoughby. As his appearances grew more frequent in the cities of Dameusia, he began to hear of a nickname name they had given him. At the time, he called himself Andrées, and sold his ‘product’ under the flag of Andrées Santé. The nickname was originally an insult used to warn others away from his merchandise, but Hieronymus ended up liking it. He let them carry on with their whispering, silently enjoying the stories he would hear, while disguised as a citizen, of the Masked Deluder. Earth’s Answer The novelty wore off a few months after Hieronymus found himself stable. He had a routine, and a comfortable one. His surface-personas lived comfortably as tourists to Dameusia, seemingly travelling around to experience all of the ugly industrialisation of the country. Meanwhile, his mountebank façade worked its magic and brought in the coin. He no longer found himself struggling and no longer had to panic because of a mistake. He was secure. So he got bored again. Fortunately, the world conspired to save him from that monotony. It started with a voice in his head, entering his dreams. It was a sarcastic, burning voice. Whatever was spoken during those dreams was remembered by Hieronymus when he woke up, as clearly as if it was written on his eyelids. It didn’t seem like a madness, and he ensured his health was in order. It was something else. Something he didn’t understand at the time. But the dreams kept coming, and sometimes the voice would seep into his head during wakeful evenings. It began teasing him, urging him, encouraging him and calling him tedious for not listening. It gave Hieronymus a challenge. “Come into the Underdark, or stay being bored. It’s up to you.” Hieronymus did the former. He made arrangements for his ‘product’ and belongings to be stored away in Cloré and forged another identity. He claimed to be a Lucleau researcher from their research institute and managed to get a position in an archaeological team who would survey a pathway down to the Underdark from a cave away from civilisation in Dameusia. Because he was completely ignorant of any techniques or information that governed archaeology, Hieronymus took up the role of a distracted dreamer with high ambitions. He spoke in ambitious tones, never saying anything particularly specific, and dealt in vagueness when asked about his previous research. The persona was good enough that any questions asked about him were framed less in reference to his legitimacy and qualifications, but rather to his mental health. The expedition proved fatal for some members of the expedition party. Mercenaries who were hired to accompany the researchers lost their lives, and several researchers vanished into the darkness and were never found. What had started as a survey was ending in fragmentation and catastrophe. Numerous times, the researchers argued they should turn back, but Hieronymus was willed onwards by some mad impulse. He turned this to his advantage, exploding into exclamations of passion for the investigation. If this was any other point, his words would have held no water. But down in the Underdark, the researchers had no leading light. Hieronymus’ words – certainly worked into a weave of inspiration by some other force – kept the group in the Underdark for the right amount of time. There came the time when Hieronymus knew he had to part from them. As they progressed through the pathways and tight corridors, the pull he was experiencing grew exponentially stronger. “Not too much farther…” At this point, he was the only cheerful one among the group. But no one was whispering about the state of his mental health anymore: they were fully convinced he was mad. So when he eventually split from the group and sprinted into the darkness, they considered that the last straw and turned back. Hieronymus does not know, nor has he checked, whether those remaining archaeologists made it back to the surface alive or whether, because of his persuasion to go deeper, they lost their lives unnecessarily in the twisting labyrinth that is the Underdark. The reason he hasn’t even thought about that is because of Guile. Upon splitting from the group and running his own way, Hieronymus knew where he was going. At every junction, he felt the undeniable certainty of which way to go. He encountered no monstrosities that the group had seen before, and not a single trap went off in his vicinity. He was blind to those observations anyway, so focused was he on this novelty that awaited him in its pocket dimension. Hieronymus often remembers that sprint with a wince: it certainly showed the worst side of him. It showed a hard-headed, unintelligent side of him, a very brutish one. It was not the best first impression to make in front of Guile, in his opinion. (He fails to realise that Guile had been watching him long before he appeared in the pocket dimension: Guile, in fact, found Hieronymus’ reckless determination to acquire the new power rather amusing.) Guile became Hieronymus’ patron to the breathless “Yes!” delivered by the charlatan when the offer was given. Guile took up a space in Hieronymus’ head, his soul and his body, and allowed Hieronymus to turn his charisma into a weapon. He had no training in arms or weaponry (aside from the usual expected noble art of fencing, where he’d skipped classes anyway) but the pact he made enabled him to wield without a thought. Getting out of the Underdark was similarly easy. He knew the way out as if by instinct. His mind was on his new pact rather than the path ahead. He was in the sunlight before he had finished his thought, and only noticed when he stumbled over a tree root. This made him stop and consider what he would do next. As he travelled back to civilisation, he constructed yet another new identity. It would be a new life, full of training and understanding how he was able to use his powers. In Argusford, he acquired a sword and some body armour, and began training alone. Before long, he decided to take his unhoned skill to a more realistic arena and offered his services as a mercenary. This carried on for a few months until he was requested back in Edranar by the order of Lord Ator Arken. Curious and eager to see why, Hieronymus made his way to Edranar and boarded a flying ship into Khora where he found himself sitting in the company of some members of the group that would come to be known as the Defenders. Description Appearance Standing at 6'0", possibly a little taller with the horns (but they can't possibly count), and with a humble crimson skin, Hieronymus treads the midline between human and demonic that many tieflings fall to one side of. He is more demonic than his brothers, boasting twelve fingers and twelve toes, as well as the quintessential curvy ram-style horns any self-respecting devil would admire, but less so than his uncle Ahzek. His horns, however, are much larger than they should be for a tiefling of his age, a result of an unfortunate aging by a ghost. His horns, which were strong but squat and protruding from his forehead, emerged in less than five seconds, as his body aged to the age of 74. When he was returned to his middle-aged self, the horns remained. His tail is another mark of his strong demonic heritage. It is not slender and spaded like he would prefer it, but rather thick and draconic. It has a half-spade at the tip. Personality And what a personality it is! Relationships Family Kyrios Quelthic : "'''I't is my understanding - however crude - that this man thinks he's shrewd and smart. In the total scheme of the Quelthic life and society though, he's certainly at the tail end of general intelligence. He has a nose for... getting what he wants, to an extent. That is, he knows how to use smarm to win favour. This isn't necessarily difficult, as he is conventionally attractive, as men go. Equal parts handsome and intimidatingly demonic... but sometimes that can't get you what you want. The problem is, he's too worried about his own life to take a gamble on his future. He never aims for the penthouse for fear that he might fall out of the building, and instead coops himself up in the 24th floor where he is stable. My mother on the other hand..."'' There is nothing pleasant about this relationship. Hieronymus sees Kyrios as a manipulative, false individual with a huge obsession with political power. Kyrios sees Hieronymus as a manipulative, false individual with not enough brains to know what's good for him. Perhaps it never was a truly loving relationship. As a child, Hieronymus went through the phases of idolising, then hating, then appreciating his father. But one thing he fails to consider is his father's constant thought: "how can I use this opportunity to my own benefit?" With the repetition of Kyrios' behaviours, it should be easy to see. But Kyrios' shrewdness and ability to capture opportunities is something Hieronymus should learn from. However, he is not eager to spend much time around his father, even if the man did offer Hieronymus a reinstatement into the Quelthics if he walk away from Lord Arken. This offer has not been discussed since, but Hieronymus has not yet replied in an affirmative or a negation. Gloriana "Glory" Quelthic (neé Leitch) : "'''M'y mother, on the other hand, has the intelligence to predict events. That's a rare gift. Certainly an under-utilised comoditiy by the Quelthics. Although, now that I think about it, I imagine she distanced herself to avoid their exploitation of her brain. Yes, I believe that must be it. The Quelthic intelligence is stagnating. She doesn't have to worry about that though if she keeps away from it all. I would certainly do well to do the same thing. Ah... why does the hope for this little holly bush of a family rest with those who walk away from it? Ahzek, Gloriana, Hope (Olaxia rest her)... and if I may be so bold as to say myself, too. I suppose time will tell. If it was down to me, I would much prefer to see family Ozris rise, although I suspect that is a dream for another cycle. In this one, I should try to keep my eye on the world instead of my personal life, as my mother did, in the hopes I might make something of myself, and my new noble name."'' There is a small part of Hieronymus that harbours a bitter respect for his mother. This is mostly from reiterations of her actions through various means: official channels, hearsay and gossip fuelled these thoughts. Instead of wondering now why she walked away from raising him, he wonders if he'd have the strength or sense to do the same if he stood where she did. Other than that, her personality quite eludes him. He is rather intimidated by her, although would certainly stand for his own values under her eyes. There is little resentment towards her for not raising him, something that surprises even himself. However, this could potentially be owed to his general detachment from his parents anyway, preferring his own company, the friendship of Nature, or friendlier relationships with his brothers. Phyllipa Quelthic : "'''W'hat is there to say about her? Nothing. There's nothing to say. A head-down silence here is more respectful than trying to apologise."'' This relationship is irreversibly skewed. It has the added layer of difficulty from any public attention: although it has been 12 years since their incident, neither of them has spoken to the other. From Hieronymus' side, it is best to keep the issue out of the mouths of the public, as it only takes one talkative tongue to spark the story. It is his general decision to not attempt contact, nor be seen in Phyllipa's presence to avoid this as much as possible. This is fairly easy, as neither of them move in particularly similar circles, but Hieronymus has always considered their separation a positive thing. However, there is still hurt there that he cannot quite place within himself. His rationale is that he would, naturally, feel sad to have lost contact with his sister, as he didn't know her very well to begin with. The potential is what is lost, over the sibling relationship. But there are other sources of this pain: much of it comes down to his regret. Hieronymus has mentioned, when questioned about the scandal, that his actions were a complete mistake and a result of some truly abysmal decisions, but that he does not regret them: regret is not feasible in this, he says, because, in being punished for the act, he was put upon a path that was to change his life for the better. This, though, is an internal lie. There is very much regret for his part. Those 12 years of either complete exile or little contact gave him far too much time to reflect on everything. As a result, he is very aware of the hurt he caused. Likely, these internal lies hold back a flow of negative emotions. It is also likely that this emotional dam will never be broken by choice. There is a recompense Hieronymus wants to perform. After returning to Khora from the war, Hieronymus found, alongside the court summons, and failure-to-attend-court notices, a letter from his mother explaining, in short terms, that Phyllipa would be marrying into the Celen family. Hieronymus could, from that letter alone, detect the odour that comprises the majority of what Guile later called the Quelthic Curse. So he set about learning more about Hope in the hope he can draw Phyllipa's attention to Hope before the wedding. He wants to tell Phyllipa about 'the Choice,' and detail what Hope, Hope's relationship and Hope's death should mean to a Quelthic, in the hopes Phyllipa doesn't marry and become a genetic cul-de-sac, having fallen prey to the Curse herself. It is the only instance he will attempt to make contact with her in 12 years. She is his first priority for this, after which he will try to tell his brothers about Hope in the same way. Severin Quelthic never liked me Darrius Quelthic probably doesn't like me anymore Hope Ozris-Heydon : "'''H'ope had The Choice. Maybe the first to have it, the first to break the mold of the Quelthic Curse... I am unsure. Either way... she was certainly different from the rest of us. Unfortunately, I know that, even if I was to meet her, I'd miss the... spark behind her eyes that Julianna and Ahzek saw. I would still be far too blinded, I would guess. I do wish to improve that edge of myself, if only to recognise that spark in others...'' : B'''ut enough about myself. Her legacy is forgotten by her family, and kept quiet by her loved ones. She is a dream that inspires a cosy selfishenss: a protective selfishness. One can notice a look of familiarity upon a Quelthic's face if her name is said. But mention her to Ahzek or Julianna, and they might sigh, they might allow a wry smile, they might shrug. Hope is not a dream to be shared, not in their eyes. : ''I am not allowed in this dream, not yet. But Julianna and Ahzek have gifted me information, memories, stories, even pictures, of her. But I am not allowed in their shared memories. I never will be. And I understand why. It is something I can respect. It is their dream. I am simply humbled to be allowed to imagine it."'' Thinking about Hope is, ironically enough, one time in Hieronymus' life where his narcissistic selfishness is put aside. Despite his belief that Julianna and Ahzek's memories of her are appropriately kept to themselves, he takes the opposite stance. When he considers her, it is down to an innate response that could come from what he knows as the Choice. A fragment of his soul is coloured by the same ink as hers... or so he wants to believe. He is not wistful about Hope. She is a bittersweet individual to him: bitter in the loss of her life to the world, sweet in that she existed at all. He follows the same cyclical thoughts on her whenever she comes to mind. A wish to have known her here, an acceptance of her mystery there, a sadness for her brother and wife, an anger for those who locked her out. A curiosity into her death. Though, Hieronymus lies to himself. He fully believes he is not selfish about her. But this is very far from true. He has in his possession a few facts: Hope's differences from the family, Ahzek's pictures of their group, and her and Julianna's wedding day, and the knowledge that his sister Phyllipa will be marrying into House Celen. Hieronymus also believes this isn't selfish: he wants to prevent this union. If Phyllipa doesn't marry into House Celen, she might have a chance to make the Choice... and prevent the future of the Quelthics following their recent pattern. But... he can also get his own way by doing this. But he likes to think he's being selfless anyway. Ahzek Ozris wings Relationships Viola Willoughby The Defenders Ryn'lo Fesh : "'''L'et it be struck from the record, all of it. There is nothing more to be said, nothing at all. I said it all at grave-side and I shan't repeat it. Not a word. Apart from the word 'good-bye.' To Ryn? No - not the Ryn I knew. But to the Ryn I could have begun to understand, the Ryn whose spirit may have been more parallel with mine than I understood before. So, a good-bye to that Ryn, the ugly Ryn, a Ryn I might have known if not for my suggestion to - ah - 'Think bigger.' Good-bye."'' : : "'''R'eally not sure what in Infernia Ryn thinks he's doing half the time. I mean, he must be doing something, the guy is intelligent... I don't understand him though. Surely... knowing what we know should fuel him. Instead it seems to have smothered him. He always looks distant, even when he's occupied on something. There's a sadness or a frustration that has him in its grips."'' In thinking about Ryn, Hieronymus mostly finds himself equal parts curious and concerned. Since visiting the Vaults, Hieronymus feels he has watched Ryn decline from all the joys in life only to work, work, work on... well, Gods know what. Fortunately, Hieronymus is now aware, thanks to Guile. With heavy submergence in Vault technology, and much withdrawal from the rest of the party, Ryn is difficult for Hieronymus to connect with. But he wants to know more. Vault technology is a real interest, and Hieronymus' strong desire to visit another Vault drives him to talk to Ryn mostly about that sort of a future. It certainly seems to be on Ryn's radar, and Hieronymus definitely doesn't want to visit one alone. He holds out on the hope he can understand what Ryn is actually doing, because it could help him in his own ultimate goals. One moment that will remain with Hieronymus is when Ryn took initiative and announced that we should be honest with each other. At that point, he revealed his name was not 'Nic Eguy' as he had said, but Ryn'lo Fesh. At the time, Hieronymus wasn't happy to share every secret he had - "Only a fool would do such a thing, no?" - but he was inspired to drop his current disguise... which was keeping everyone from seeing that he had aged 40 years thanks to a ghost. Ryn had already seen this happen, and had thus already laughed viciously, but it caused much laughter among the other party members. This taught Hieronymus a valuable lesson... or would have done if he wasn't so busy feeling sorry for himself. But the honesty and self-awareness was very valued by Hieronymus. It brought up the sobering consideration that his party members were, even after months of fighting, scheming and travelling together, still strangers in many aspects. On the positive side, it showed him that there were avenues they could pursue where they could all bond and link into each other's lives. Naturally, there are still question marks in many of the party members, including Ryn himself, but upon Ryn's admittance of his name, Hieronymus developed some more respect for the halfling bard. However, all of this was greatly overshadowed when the team got back to Khora. Ryn, upon discovering there were no spoons to be found in the house in the city, concocted a very inspiring way of eating his Granny's Orange Creamy Delight™ yoghurt. Upon one stormy night when Ryn did happen to be present in the house, Hieronymus settled down to listen to what Ryn had put on the radio. The music was smooth blues, and, with nothing else to watch, Hieronymus was privy to Ryn's Greatest Achievement™: the consumption of the creamy delight armed with nought but a mage hand. Hieronymus recalls Ryn making direct eye contact as the Mage Hand peeled back the seal... lowered itself into the pool beneath... came out dripping and glistening with sickly, artificial Orange™ flavoured yoghurt... and transported the palmful to Ryn's awaiting maw. It was a sight to behold: Ryn engulfed the entire Mage Hand and the movement of his tongue could be deciphered as his cheeks bulged intermittently. When the Mage Hand now entirely disappeared, Hieronymus saw the halfling swallow... then summon another Mage Hand. The question Hieronymus had, and still has, for the bard is simply this, "By Azanthir's nails, how did you not drip any onto your beard?" Captain Ivellios Nailo : "'''S'ee, the issue with Ivellios is that he seems very straightforward and easy to categorise, but he is far from it. It is notoriously hard to separate his individual facets because they're all tied up shoulder-to-shoulder with the most unsuitable of knots. He's a kind fellow, nevertheless. His strengths lie in his combat abilities, and his weaknesses lie... well, with his addiction. Now, I could never say I 'understand' this side of him because I don't. I have no addictions myself Are you sure about that, my sweet?'' : ''I''' have no O'kay, apparently I have some sort of addiction, but it's not as severe as Ivellios'... if I had one wish I would wish... well, wealth upon myself, but if I had a second wish - that I couldn't use on myself - I would wish for Ivellios to kick that habit that causes him to fluctuate so in his position on this mortal planet." Over the months, Hieronymus has witnessed Ivellios repeatedly demonstrate bravery and strategy in the field. Since he is not a strategist or tactician, he can't completely comprehend what Ivellios is doing every time, but it seems to work well enough. In fact, this is one of the several factors that is pushing Hieronymus into becoming more versatile: with Ivellios' Commanding Strike, Hieronymus realised that if Ivellios' shooting can be used to push others to their greatest moments, then he should try too. Hieronymus knows he isn't seen the same by Ivellios since Guile saved him though. When Ivellios asked whether he owes Guile, Hieronymus thought he didn't. If anyone owed Guile for such a service, it was Hieronymus himself. So when Guile confirmed Ivellios was indeed the party out of pocket with him, Hieronymus was very surprised. He had been prepared to make the payback himself, so he wasn't sure what to think when the moment arose. Ivellios' knowledge and awareness of Guile was slightly disconcerting to Hieronymus but he's accepted that it's a fact of life now. One lie that Hieronymus keeps up is about Ivellios' death. He has previously expressed that, upon seeing Ivellios crushed by Grah'zt the Butcher, he was inspired by rage to follow Grah'zt as he made his escape. "I was blinded at the time. It felt... wrong to stand there - well, float there - and watch the thing that killed my friend escape... so I followed him," he said. In reality, Hieronymus didn't know Ivellios had died. His eye was always on Grah'zt, and not on his friends. All he saw was Grah'zt take a step forward and take off into flight. Hieronymus was driven to follow him not by the death of his friend and party member, but by his own obsessive lust to get to the Vault first. Grombrindal Thughduhm : "'''A'll through our relationship, Grombrindal has been an oddity. He started off insisting we call him 'Big Ken,' thus my original decision to call him 'Kenneth' but that name died out after a while... thank the gods. Then he told us we were spelling his name wrong, which surprised me. I was quite ashamed - since my name is long and convoluted, I am careful to spell others' names correctly. It is irritating not having your name spelled right... but nevertheless..."'' : "'''S'peaking of names, actually, I... still feel I owe him. When I was stripped of my family name - which I am rather glad to be rid of - I was rather defenceless in the heavily-political climate of Edrnar. So, when I was granted a barony by Lord Arken, I needed a surname. Grombrindal stood up and told me I could have his. I could share his surname: I became enough of a friend to Grombrindal to be allowed his surname. That's a sacred bond - we're not family by blood, but we're linked through this bond. I thanked him when he bestowed it upon me, and again when he departed for Asmor, but I want to just thank him one more time."'' Natasha LaReve gives masks a bad name Xanaphia mysterious Isolde La'Fey : "'''T'here is a pain here that none of us saw until recently. We lost Isolde in that forest, and never got the same woman back. We're pushing for the truth of the matter, for the heart of who she is, but she remains a victim of circumstance. That's not all she is though: she's strong, she's intelligent, and she isn't letting her confused past paralyse her. If it was I in that situation, Azanthir knows I'd shatter to pieces. But - I can't speak of this from myself. My situations have always been vastly different to hers. I have a family. Mother, father, brothers, sister, even if they are estranged. Isolde has... only herself. I don't think she trusts us, even if she says she does. The only way to know if someone truly trusts you is if they come to you trusting you to take their tears..."'' Isolde isn't simple. Hieronymus comically compares her to a pass-the-parcel present: she has so many layers, that never seem to be ending. You can spend time unwrapping one layer, as cautiously as possible, and all you see is... another layer to unwrap later. And it is important that one does it cautiously: too tough and she might run away. Hieronymus originally didn't think about Isolde too much. He respected her power as a sorcerer - sometimes even being jealous of the huge releases of power she was able to orchestrate - but her intricacies were buried so far beneath the surface he, like the others, was ignorant to them. Only when she returned from the forest where she disappeared - as described by Ryn after his meeting with Aurora - did Hieronymus realise something was wrong. After a few difficult fights, through which Hieronymus had True Seeing activated, he spoke to Isolde and realised something wasn't right. It seemed as though her physical appearance was wavering. The glistening film around her face seemed as though it wasn't real. So Hieronymus focused his mind and saw through it... and realised she had skin as white as fear, and radiant hair. Her eyes were red, sharp and yet... confused. She wasn't a human like she thought. After this, Hieronymus began taking much more notice of her. He is highly concerned, but remains distant as to not worry her. He accompanied her to speak to Lord Arken, at which point he discovered the truth behind her life and past. Suddenly, the young woman with a core of naiveté was a victim of the world. She became something valuable, and something young. At the moment, Hieronymus remains torn between two actions: to care for her as a protector, or to investigate her. It is this discord that births his distance from her. Yvelda (DH1425) stronk Political Lord Ator Arken okay so this guy is such a sleazy bastard and i don't mean the halfling kind Julianna Alice Heydon actually tragic woman Thennik Shimmerscale Extra-Planar Guile : "'''A'h, the good old days of ignorance when I discovered Guile. When I thought I was oh-so-special for discovering him. Thinking back on things, I certainly should have read the Terms and Conditions more closely. Or, at least, waited until Guile finished his sentence before saying yes. But I was just so bored that anything coming along was good. Actually, no, that's a lie, being in the Underdark was rather terrifying and seeing a sword was a blessed relief by that point. I can hardly be scolded for my actions Oh, my poor little idiot, of course you can be. You had all the time in the universe to ask anything you wanted. No one was going to interrupt our little session together.'' : ''A't least, please Guile, have the decency to start a new line when you do this? Please? : I'''f you insist. But don't pretend things were different than they were, I wouldn't want you to lie now, would I? : ''A'lright then. I was too dumb to ask questions, too... hasty in my decisions. But, would I give it up? No, I wouldn't. I'm having the time of my life. The physical sensation when I summon the Blade to my hand is... deep in timbre, thick in texture and of the most vivid and dangerous shade of purple one can imagine. So purple it's almost green... : W'''ell, how insulting, green is certainly not my colour. : ''H'ush. Stop crossing me out. Well... One undeniably important moment is obviously when Guile took over my body for the first time. That is, a total takeover, rather than... whatever space in my soul he normally resides in. I owed him at the time, as he implanted the language of Hobgoblin temporarily into my head so I wouldn't be up a certain creek without a certain rowing implement during my act as a Hobgoblin captain. So the takeover wasn't unexpected, but it was a surprising time for it. For him to act so much in another person's favour : ''I hope you mean that sarcastically, or are you really suggesting I wanted to save the Elf's life?'' : ... was certainly, on the surface, a selfless act. In reality, I believe - do you really? - that it was less selfless and more... a bit of fun. After all, the body count afterwards, from my memories, contained as many slave children as it did Hobgoblin guards. Still. I'm thankful for Ivellios being spared. : Y'''ou talk about those children quite heartlessly... but I know why that is. It's for the same reason as why I let your pet Elf live another day. If you saw him die, you'd have been derailed for a little while, which I couldn't have... as for those slave children... you'd feel remorse if I let you. But I think the guilt is a little too much for you yet. You haven't learned what the value of life really is..." Some might say Hieronymus is trapped underneath Guile's thumb. They'd be wrong: Hieronymus is trapped beneath a hangnail on Guile's pinky finger. Guile is a trove of many secrets, some of which he himself doesn't know, as he let Hieronymus know during a talk in the woods. It seems to Hieronymus that Guile is indeed powerful, but if his mind is locked away from certain things, then how powerful is he who holds the key? Hieronymus also reckons that kind of a question is a little too large for him to answer. Guile occupies an odd space between conscious and dreaming for the tiefling. He floats just behind the eyes, yet cannot be focused on directly or he will ebb cheekily to another location in his brain. When he speaks, it is somehow clearer than the Message cantrip. It is a corporeal sound, but comes as naturally as a thought. Hieronymus found that the longer he was bonded with Guile, the more in tune he became to Guile's rhythms. Listening and replying to Guile mentally is simple now, and requires very little thought. Hieronymus can almost do it while holding a conversation with someone else out loud, but often times is caught off-guard by Guile's voice and falters. Nowadays, there is no longer the question of 'why' but more the question of 'what next?' Hieronymus has recovered Guile from the Underdark where they first met, so the latter question has some worryingly large answers to it. Not only that, but from the Defenders' excursion into the Vault in the North, Hieronymus has learned a lot about Guile, including the fact he was "shattered and not to be reforged," that he is "Unit 03" out of (supposedly) 10 Units, and that Guile cannot access any memories of previous cycles he may have been involved in. This is all information Hieronymus has largely kept to himself, due to its volatile connections. Despite agreeing to be honest with his party members, the warlock is aware where the line of honest meets the shutters of silence. Other Amon/Serena Horatio my baby son Character Information Notable Items Attunement Items * '''Guile: * Emani Aegis: * Stone of Good Luck: Magic Items * Elven Boots Mundane Items *how dare you none of my items are mundane Other *like 3 phials of (now congealed) blood wtf Abilities * a hell of a lot Feats * like one Racial Abilities * some Class Abilities * horrible luck ** as in really bad *i mean it it's terrible Category:Living Characters Category:Male Characters Category:Warlock Category:Hexblade Category:Defenders Category:Edranar Category:Player Character Category:Arken Allies Category:Noble Category:Quelthic Category:Nobles Category:Player Characters